


Healing Takes Time

by Anonymous



Series: Constellations A Million Years Away (Dream SMP Star Wars AU) [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Star Wars - All Media Types, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Fusion, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Canon-Typical Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29659854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “What the fuck?” The words fall out of his mouth before he can stop them. He nearly falters, but he catches himself before he can back out. He’s finding the limit, because no one can be this infinitely patient and kind. The galaxy ran out of patience and kindness the day the Jedi died.OrIn which Dream isn't used to trusting. Not quite yet.
Relationships: Dream & CaptainPuffy
Series: Constellations A Million Years Away (Dream SMP Star Wars AU) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2179557
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43
Collections: Anonymous





	Healing Takes Time

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to start collecting my Star Wars au drabbles here.  
> The inspiration for these goes to @dreamsmp-au-ideas on Tumblr!

Dream has been on edge since… well he’s been on edge since _before_ he and Punz blew up a ship and went rogue. He didn’t think he remembered a time when he _wasn’t_ on edge. _He did, he did. Back when he was just Clay. When his Master hadn’t been replaced by a monster. But that time, that boy, was dead and buried a long time ago._ Dream is on edge because he keeps fucking up. He _knows_ he keeps fucking up. The problem is that nobody has done anything about it. 

He fucks up, he gets punished, he doesn’t do it again. Here, he isn’t getting punished, but he must be messing things up. He has to be, because he always does. 

_His Master lets go of his throat and Dream drops to the floor._

_“Disappointing,” he sighs._

_Dream twitches silently on the floor from lightning aftershocks as his Master’s footsteps fade away._

He doesn’t know what he is or isn’t allowed to do. He doesn’t know where he stands. People radiate hostility into the force wherever he goes, eyes watching him constantly, silent whenever he walks past. Every action, every conversation, he’s trying to hold himself to an unclear and ever changing rulebook, and Dream is _sick_ of it.

If Dream messed up and wasn’t immediately punished, it was only because his Master was building up to something worse. He doesn’t know why they’ve delayed so long but Dream is- he’s afraid. He’s so very, very afraid. Because he knows what to expect from his Master. Here, he is out of his depth, and he is drowning. 

So he’s going to _make_ them punish him. He’s going to force their hand, make them angry, because once he finds the limit, he’ll know. He can go back to breathing easy. 

Dream strides out of his assigned room with purpose. 

It’s been a week. He’s made direct and lasting eye contact with his superiors _multiple_ times. He’s been dismissive and rude to anyone near enough to start a conversation. He hasn’t responded to direct questions. He was late to the briefing today, he’d been planning to be later, maybe even miss it, but he’d gone from sitting on his bed to frantic pacing as time went ticking past. Then he started to panic and the next thing he knew he was sitting down in the meeting room. 

He doesn’t know what else to do. Nobody has brought any of it up. Puffy had given him a concerned look from her spot a few chairs over, and he’d gotten a few dirty looks from some other rebels, but other than that, _nothing_ . The frustration and anxiety keeps building, feeding on each other in a loop until he can’t focus on anything else. His foot starts to bounce under his chair and _no no no no_ -

 _His Master hates it when Dream fidgets. Dream knows this. He doesn’t know why he can’t seem to stop himself_ . _He twitches when a boot heel comes down on the back of his hand, but he doesn’t make a sound. He isn’t sure he can, after months of that horrible mask, and besides, his Master doesn’t like that either. He doesn’t need to make him angier._

_“What did we talk about, Dream?”_

_Dream blinks the tears from his eyes and tries to reply, all he manages is a shaky rasp._

_“That’s right, Dream. No fidgeting. I’m trying to make you powerful. Do you think that makes you seem powerful?”_

_Dream, still facedown on the floor, frantically shakes his head._

_The boot presses down harder and Dream feels the bones shift._

_“Then you understand why I’m doing this?”_

_Dream wants to scream and rage and cry. He wants his Master to pick him off the floor and hug him and tell him he’s sorry, that this was all just a big misunderstanding. Instead he gives a jerky nod, because he does. He does understand why his Master has to do this._

_His Master sighs, “I don’t understand why you keep making me do this Dream, do you think I want to hurt you? Do you think I enjoy this?”_

_Another frantic head shake._

_There’s a long pause, and Dream can feel the satisfaction dripping from his Master’s voice as he says, “Good.”_

_Dream couldn’t use his right hand for two months after that. His Master used that opportunity to teach him to fight with his left._

He comes back to himself with a start. Dizzy, he nearly raises a hand to his head before he realises that every single person in the meeting room is staring at him, utterly silent. He freezes. _Oh, that’s not good._ He deliberately forces himself to relax. _This is what he wanted, remember? Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean it won’t still hurt. Whatever. He’s been through worse. No matter what, he’ll survive. That’s what he’s good at._

“What.” He snaps, bristling. Puffy gives him an anguished look, and Dream doesn’t even know where to start with that. 

Nihachu considers him from across the table, her voice is cool, but compassionate, “Are you… alright, Dream?”

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be.”

“You kind of went real still there, and you felt all… spiky in the force,” Tubbo pipes up uncertainly. 

“What the fuck?” The words fall out of his mouth before he can stop them. He nearly falters, but he catches himself before he can back out. He’s finding the limit, because no one can be this infinitely patient and kind. The galaxy ran out of patience and kindness the day the Jedi died. 

Everything in the room skids backwards in a wave as Dream stands and _slams_ his hands onto the table, his chair clattering to the ground behind him. Nihachu comes up with a blaster in hand. Philza has one as well, safety off and aimed directly at his heart. Tubbo, pale-faced, is holding his lightsaber just behind Philza. The sounds of blasters whirring and knives unsheathing fills the air. The tension in the room goes stretched and heavy. Like a single spark could ignite it. 

Dream is terrified, every instinct screaming at him to back down, but he has to know- “What the fuck is _wrong_ with you people! I don’t understand why you keep- keep- being so _nice_!” 

There’s a pause and the tension in the room drains a little, someone snorts. Tommy rolls his eyes so hard Dream can tell he's doing it even under his beskar helmet. Tubbo leans forward in his chair and starts scooting back towards the table.

“Course big man Dream doesn’t comprehend ‘nice’," Tommy says mockingly, "Doesn’t compute ‘cause he hasn’t _got_ any feelings." 

“I just-! I just _yelled_ at you!” He gives Nihachu an incredulous look, “You’re in charge of me!” A part of Dream is begging him to stop talking and the other part just wants to get it over with. “I literally just missed _everything_ you said in the past five minutes!” He’s starting to get weird looks and Dreams suddenly misses his mask with an intensity that takes his breath away. He fucking hated the thing, it reminded him of- of - _can’t speak, oh god I can’t speak, I can’t even- No! Not right now._ He takes a step back from the table, trying to still his shaking hands. His voice is small as he says, “I just- I don’t understand why you aren’t hurting me.” 

The room goes vacuum-of-space silent, the force swelling with _concern-confusion-dawning horror_ and Dream wants to be _anywhere_ but here. He clenches his hands into a fist and stares resolutely at the floor. 

Nihachu finds her voice after an extremely awkward silence, softly saying, “We are not the Empire, Dream. We are not needlessly cruel.” 

Dream nods stiffly. His feelings are getting overwhelming. He needs to get himself back under control.

He flattens his voice into an uncaring monotone, “May I leave?” 

Puffy looks stricken, still frozen halfway up out of her seat, “Yes, Dream. Yes, of course you can-”

He cuts her off, glancing at Nihachu out of the corner of his eye, “May I leave?” 

She scrutinizes his face before giving the tiniest of nods. Dream turns on his heel and flees. He’s well practiced at moving fast while seeming completely at ease. It’s a skill well practiced. 

He faintly hears Tommy say, “What the fuck was that about?” before the door closes. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Niki gets to be the Leia of this universe because I love her and she deserves it


End file.
